Being an artist in our society makes us lonely. Everyone else leaves in the morning for work and structured jobs. Artists live outside that built-in social system. – Natalie Goldberg

A manuscript to edit, chapters to read through, animals to crochet.  The cat fur tumbling into balls on the floor, compost to drop off, unused Christmas decorations to return to the closet.  Today, today’s tasks.

I adore my job. I adore this farm. But some days, I wish I got to shower, get dressed, climb into the car, and leave home for a proscribed number of hours on several days a week. Then, there would be a distinct difference between home and work. Maybe the fur balls of various sorts would leave my mind then.

In that scenario, too, there would be a paycheck probably, one that came every two or four weeks for the same amount.  Just now, that idea is particularly appealing.  In fact, I’m having trouble – still, more than three years after leaving a “regular” job – remembering that the end of the month does not indicate anything about the coming of more money.  It just means the end of the month.

This job would mean that I could do it for a certain number of hours and be done for the day.  I wouldn’t always know I could do more – edit more, promote more, crochet more.*

So today, I kind of wish I could don a coat and scarf over my sensible work slacks and head to an office away from the farm.

But I only kind of wish this because I know I am just where I am supposed to be – here, in my pjs, on the farm, with dust bunnies and a rambunctious puppy nearby. I know in every cell of this energy that makes me who I am that this place, this work, this time is right.  I have no doubts, just some pesky, slightly self-pitying wishes.

I know I am blessed beyond measure to live this life. I know many people would adore this freedom.  I do not take it for granted.

In a few minutes, when I delve into a great novel that I have the honor of editing, when I take a broom to the dust bunnies, when that crochet hook moves to loosen all the tension in my shoulders even as if forms the right, front paw of a star nose mole, I will feel peace again.

What do you wish your work was different? What do you wish for? 

*For the record, I do realize that working away from home means that everything I can do during the day must get done at night. And that sometimes steady work doesn’t mean a regular paycheck. And that I am fortunate to have work at all.  Please know, that I know I am blessed.